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NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR, ELLE CASEY, brings readers Book 1 of 3 in the New Adult Romance Series, REBEL WHEELS.

With close to 3,000 5-star ratings on Goodreads for Book 1, readers love the Rebel Wheels series!

Teagan Cross, college senior, rebel, and wiseass extraordinaire, goes from princess to pauper in a single phone call. Overnight, her life of privilege becomes one of survival, and no matter where she turns, it seems like the world is out to get her. She’s not going to fall apart, though. She’s a rebel and she’s strong … determined to live life on her own terms … and nothing’s going to stop her from getting things done and making things right. But when a twist of fate brings her to the doorstep of a different kind of Rebel, she’s forced to figure out when something’s worth fighting for and when something’s worth letting go.

Content Warning: Contains sexy adult situations, creative foul language, and some mild violence. May not be appropriate for younger readers.

My name’s Teagan. I know, I know … the name. Twenty-two years ago, my mother thought a Welsh name for her only child would be beautiful. Teagan means pretty, so it should have fit perfectly. Who has an ugly baby, right? I guess I did okay in the looks department. I’m not too short, not too tall. Eating chips and gummy bears every day has no effect on my somewhat athletic frame, and I’ve been told my green eyes compliment my pale complexion. The problem with the name Teagan is my mom never considered the creative names kids would morph it into.

“Yo, Teabag, what’s up?”

I flip Perry Spitler off, but he just laughs as he passes on by.

He and I have an understanding; when we see each other on campus, he insults me, I flip him off, and we never actually talk. It suits us both just fine. Making out with him and then ralphing on his shoes in freshman year was one of the best moves I’ve ever made in my climb up the social ladder at UCLA.

“Why do you even talk to that douche canoe?” asks my friend Quin as she brushes out her long, black hair. Quinlan is her real name, but she refuses to answer to it. We both have a thing with names, which is only one of the many reasons we get along so well. “I hear he puts toy cars in dark places on weekends.” She puts away her brush and takes a bite of an energy bar, chewing it like a cow and waiting for my reaction.

I’m both intrigued and disgusted. “And by toy cars and dark places we mean…” I twist my longish, wavy brown hair up into a bun and stick a pencil in it to keep it from falling to my shoulders again. It’s frigging hot out here in the student union today. Dry heat, my butt.

“Literally. Like that movie Jackass. He put a toy car in his asshole at a party the other night.”

I snort in disbelief and disgust. “He did not.”

Quin puts up her hand like a girl scout. “Swear. Guy’s an asscar driver.”

I’m really happy I barfed on him now. Really, really happy. The kiss we shared? Well, we’ll just tally that up to a serious lapse in judgment on my part. In my defense, there were copious amounts of beer involved.

I can’t help but stare at his butt as he goes by. “Remind me not to accept any rides from him in the future.”

We collapse in immature giggles that have Perry turning around and frowning. Watching his face and imagining that I can see he’s walking with a slight limp only makes it worse. By the time I can see clearly again, he’s gone.

“Man, I totally needed that.” I can feel the good mood drugs floating around in my brain. Now the upcoming Summer of Doom doesn’t seem quite so bleak.

“You ready for summer break?” Quin asks, crumpling up the wrapper to her energy bar and throwing it on the ground.

I lean down and pick it up, sighing as I stick it in my bag. This is her thing. This is my thing. This is how we roll, with her being a pain in the ass and me picking up after her. “No. I’m not ready. I want to stay here and hang out with you and all the cool people.”

“No, you don’t. Do you know how hot it gets here in the summer? Ugh.” She brushes crumbs off her lap. “I am going to literally cook in my own skin, like a poached egg.”

“You forget, I’ve lived here for almost four years now, and No Cal isn’t that different.”

“But you always leave in the summer, and No Cal is different, so that doesn’t count. By the time you get back this September for your very last semester – by the way, you completely suck for graduating before me – all the poaching will be done.”

“You should come with me. Silicon Valley’s got a drier heat than LA.” I’m lying, but she’ll never know.

She faces me, not smiling. That’s a rare expression for her, as Quin-grins come frequently and often without provocation. We’re not much alike in that way; my smiles are rationed for only truly happy moments.

“You should invite me, and maybe I would,” she says.

“I always invite you.”

“No, you don’t. You just say, ‘You should come.’ That’s not the same thing.”

“What do you want, an engraved invitation?” A tiny spark of hope glimmers in my chest. Summer would only suck half as much if Quin were with me back at my father’s place.

“Yes. That would work.” She sniffs and looks off into the distance.

“I’ll seriously do it, if that’s what it would take to finally get you up there.”

“No, don’t bother. I can’t go.”

“Why? Because LA’s social scene would never survive without you?”

“No.” She stands, brushing off her legs. “Come on, we’re going to be late.”

“Late for what? My classes were all done as of twenty minutes ago.”

“I have an appointment with a milkshake over at McDonald’s House of Horrors. Come on. Your treat.”

We begin the long walk across campus. “I’ll pay for your ticket,” I say, testing the waters. I don’t know why I bother, though.

“Nope. I pay my own way.”

“Do you have the money?”

“No. You know I’m broke.” Quin is always broke. She lives off the kindness of others and a scholarship. I’m not even sure what the scholarship is for. Do they give scholarships for being a smartass? Because if they do, she qualifies for a full ride.

“Then let me pay,” I say.

“No.”

“You can pay me back.”

“No.”

I try a different tack. “It’s because you don’t like me, I know. Admit it.”

“No, that’s not it, and if you try and guilt me into doing it, we won’t be friends anymore.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Yes, it is, but still … I won’t let you pay.”

I give her my puppy dog eyes. “I’m going to be desperately lonely.”

“No, you won’t be. You’ll have a bodyguard babysitter.”

I sigh. “They always suck.”

“That last one didn’t.”

“The last one was like forty years old!”

“So? What do you want to do? Fuck them or just have them take a bullet for you?”

“Can’t I do both?”

We laugh, knowing I’m full of crap. I actually liked the last guy assigned to babysit me, the guy being paid to assuage my father’s paranoia. He actually believes there are people in silicon valley trolling the neighborhoods for executives’ kids, since according to him they’d make really excellent kidnapping targets.

Jim was the name of my last babysitter. Maybe I’ll get him again and we can play chess all summer like we did last year. I’ve never slept with one of my dad’s employees. They’re always married, ugly, old, or a trifecta of all three. Besides, my dad would kill us both if I did something that stupid. We don’t fraternize with the help.

That’s what my uber arrogant step-mother says, anyway, although I’m not so sure she hasn’t put that rule to the side from time to time with the pool boy. Seriously … I’m not kidding. The pool boy.

“What are you thinking about right now?” Quin asks me. “I.O.U. for your thoughts.”

“I’m thinking how much I hate The Heinous One for being such a bag of dicks.”

Quin smiles. “I’m really looking forward to meeting your step-mother at graduation, you know that? I’m totally going to call her that to her face.”

I smile back. “Me too. Some day.” When I find a way to support myself and don’t have to worry about my father cutting me off.

Author Bio:

Elle Casey, a former attorney and teacher, is a NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY bestselling American author who lives in Southern France with her husband, three kids, and a number of furry friends. She has written books in several genres and publishes an average of one full-length novel per month.

This is my stop during the book blitz for Ella's Twisted Senior Year by Amy Sparling. This book blitz is organized by Lola's Blog Tours. The book blitz runs from 31 May till 6 June, you can view the blitz schedule here.

Blurb: Having spent most of her senior year flying under the radar, the last thing Ella Lockhart expected was to have a tornado rip straight through her house, leaving her homeless. It’s bad enough that the whole school now pities her, but did her parents have to let the neighbors take them in?

Now she's sharing a house with Ethan Poe, her former best friend-turned-enemy. All those feelings she used to have for him are starting to rain down on her again. Too bad he's a jerk and his new girlfriend has territorial issues. Thanks to Mother Nature, Ella's house and her entire life have been turned upside down.

Ethan isn’t quite sure why Ella hates him so much, but he does know she wants nothing to do with him. He’s never quite gotten over the crush he had on her as a kid, and now that she’s living across the hall, it’s hard to stay away. His girlfriend isn’t helping the situation and when she shows her true colors, he doesn’t want to date her anymore. He wants to date someone like Ella. Too bad she hates him.

About the Author:
Amy Sparling is the author of The Summer Unplugged Series, Deadbeat & other awesome books for younger teens. She lives in Texas and has an addiction to sparkly nail polish, taking photos of her cute dog, and swooning over book boyfriends.

There is a book blitz wide giveaway for the book blitz of Ella's Twisted Senior Year. These are the prizes you can win:
- a $10 Amazon gift card (Open internationally)
- a signed paperback of Ella's Twisted Senior Year by Amy Sparling (USA only)

Elise Newton has it all—a dream job, a house that’s all hers, and a boyfriend who’s a cardiologist. Darren has been carrying an engagement ring in his pocket for two months, waiting for the perfect time to ask her to be his wife. He has no idea Elise has been waiting for the perfect time as well—to break up.

You see, Elise has a fatal flaw. She cannot commit to love.

An early-morning call from her sister gives Elise hope. She’s needed back home in Kentucky, to care for their mother who’s recovering from surgery. It’s the break Elise has been searching for, a reprieve from the strain of ducking Darren’s declarations of love.

But along with Kentucky comes seeing Ben—her first love, the one who came closest to being her happily ever after. Now a single dad, Ben has moved on with his life. But has his love for her moved on as well?

When Elise discovers a long-hidden truth about her family—and the reason why she can’t commit—she must decide which man will give her a reason to stay.

Elise Newton sat across the table from Darren Masterson in Pierre’s, one of the swankiest places in town to eat, watching him like she would an ailing person in the hospital. Right after the doctor informed her he only had hours left to live.

She studied him, trying to remember everything about him that she could. Things that normally couldn’t be recalled if just the image of him popped up in her mind. Like a quick snapshot of a tall guy with a nice smile, dark hair, and an amazing set of blue eyes.

No, Elise wanted to remember the details. Like the lines in his forehead, and how there was one very pronounced one dead center over the bridge of his nose, etched deeper than all the others. And that solitary vein that pulsed on his right temple when he was either chewing or talking very seriously about something.

She took a sip of her expensive wine and swished it around in her mouth before swallowing.

It tasted dry; she much more preferred sweet. But this would do the trick. She needed just a few more glasses of it, though, to deaden the pain she knew would come after she told him what she had to say.

But first his lips. She needed to remember his soft lips. If they had a flavor, it’d be buttercream, like the kind found in the middle of her favorite doughnut from Margie’s Bakery, down off Ontario Boulevard.

She looked at him then, letting her eyes wander down to his perfectly shaped mouth as it took another bite. Lord, she’d miss that mouth … that tongue … that…

“Babe, are you all right?” he asked, chewing at the same time.

“Of course,” she said, blinking rapidly to get the image of him licking her lips out of her mind.

“It just seems like there’s something on your mind. Something you want to tell me.” He wiped the corner of his mouth with the linen napkin.

She shook her head and stared at his blue eyes as he drove his fork around the plate. Now, his eyes were a whole other story than his lips. Ones that she would miss the most. To describe them merely as being blue as the Arctic ocean would be like describing the Northern Lights as blurry thing-a-ma-bobs.

No, they were like two of the most devastatingly blue eyes that she’d ever seen in California, since moving there fourteen years ago. When she looked into them long enough, she discovered they were actually secret portals into the heart of his soul.

And Bam! There she had it. These thoughts about the man sitting across the table from her were the precise reasons why she had to end it. Nip it in the bud. Stop the presses. Lane four is closing, take all your feelings and emotions to the express checkout and get the H-E-double-L out of there.

Elise’s brain sent the cut-it-and-run messages through the loud speaker in her head, but her mouth was having a hard time with the command. She shook her head, trying to snap out of the trance she’d fallen into again. Like the one that caught her last week when she told herself that would be her last date with Mr. Perfect. So far, this was the fifth ‘last’ date she’d had with him.

What was her problem? Instead of studying him like an Adonis sitting front and center in a Petri dish, she had to saddle up for what she came to dinner to do. To break up with him. There was no way around it. It had to be done. Only she had to think of a way.

He wasn’t like the other guys she was used to dating. There was nothing that truly stood out to be a problem with him. Other than Elise was beginning to fall for him. She had been for the past couple of eight months.

She could hear her mother’s Southern-coated drawl play over and over inside her head. “Don’t ever think a man is the answer to your problems, little girl. There is no man out there that’s gonna do anything but destroy you. Destroy all your dreams, and destroy your future. End it with them before they end it with you.”

Author Bio:

Julieann lives in Virginia, yet longs to live everywhere else. It doesn’t come as a surprise that along with her gypsy soul, comes an active imagination. That’s why she loves to write and invent worlds and people, so that she can formulate their happily ever after. Hobbies include cooking new recipes, sewing, and spending time with her cute boyfriend/husband and five fabulous children. Vacations happen in Nantucket or the Carolina beaches—anywhere there is inspiration for her next book. One day she hopes to travel to Italy, drive one of those little cars around the countryside, and speak the language fluently!

About the Book

Title: Accidentally Compromising the Duke

Author: Stacy Reid

Genre: Historical Romance

England, 1817. Miss Adeline Hays is out of options. Determined to escape marriage to a repugnant earl, Adeline plans to deliberately allow herself to be caught in a compromising position at a house party with the much kinder man she’d hoped to marry. Instead, Adeline accidentally enters the wrong chamber and tumbles into the bed of the mad duke.

Edmond Rochester, the duke of Wolverton, is seeking a wife to care for his two daughters. A young lady of sensibilities, accomplishment, and most importantly, one who he is not attracted to—a complete opposite of the bewitching beauty who traps him into marriage. But despite the lust he feels for his new duchess, Edmond is resolved to never allow them intimacy, refusing to ever again suffer the tormenting loss of a loved one.

Author Bio

I am an avid reader of novels with a deep passion for writing. From an early age, I started writing short stories for pleasure. I knew the dozens of romance novels I devoured were onto something when I met my husband at fifteen and fell in love after a week!

Life got in the way and I stopped writing for years. Then at the age of twenty-six with a degree in Human Resource Management I decided to focus on my passion—writing. I especially love romance and adore writing sensually hot paranormal fantasy, historical and contemporary stories.

I live a lot in the worlds I create and I actively speak to my characters (out loud). I have a warrior way “never give up on my dream.” When I am not writing, I spend a copious amount of time drooling over Rick Grimes from Walking Dead, watching Japanese Anime and playing video games with my love—Dusean Nelson.

Some Random Things About Me

I cannot swim, but I can float thanks to Melissa “Misa” Bourbon Ramirezand Gwen Hayes

As a child I was so skinny my nickname was “Bag of bones”

I love ice cream and I adore chocolate, but I hate chocolate ice cream

I skipped many classes during high school to devour novels at the local library

I love dogs and don’t trust cats . I’m told I was mauled by a cat when I was one year old, go figure

I hate washing the dishes. If you were to torture me nail pulling would not work, but washing dishes will

Which would be worse, knowing that your dead sister has come back to life and is now a serial killer or that someone else is the killer….and that person is you?

Six months after Linda’s sister Elizabeth killed herself, Linda has finally gotten her life back to some semblance of normalcy. Until a killer appears who is stalking men … a killer who resembles Elizabeth … a killer who seems somehow familiar to Linda.

And, to make matters worse, Steve, her old high school crush and now a detective, is assigned to this case. He’s asking Linda all sorts of questions, questions Linda couldn’t possibly have an answer to.

There’s no reason for him to be investigating Linda. She couldn’t possibly have anything to do with this.

hen Elizabeth was born, her mother knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the hospital had made a mistake.

It had been a difficult pregnancy. Marie spent most of it in bed, nauseated, uncomfortable, exhausted. She barely kept anything down, subsisting mostly on tea and saltine crackers. When the time came to deliver, the doctors performed an emergency Caesarean section, so she wasn’t able to actually watch the birth.

She couldn’t explain it, but the first time the nurses presented her with Elizabeth, she refused to even hold the baby. “There must be some mistake,” she insisted.

“There’s no mistake,” the nurses said, their approach firm and no-nonsense.

Blond and pale, Elizabeth looked nothing like the other dark haired members of the family. But it was more than that. Elizabeth felt wrong. Marie sensed it every single time she looked at Elizabeth, touched Elizabeth, smelled Elizabeth. The baby was alien to her. Elizabeth was not her baby.

But she could do nothing about it. Her husband hadn’t seen the birth. He had refused to attend any of his children’s births. The nurses kept assuring her that no one had made, could possibly have made, a mistake. So Marie had little choice but to bring her home.

Elizabeth was different, always — strange. Marie hated to use that word about any of her children, especially her youngest, but she could find no other word to describe her. Elizabeth was strange. Period.

From birth, the baby kept quiet. Rarely fussed. Hardly cried. She started talking at six months, much earlier than the rest of her children, and started forming full sentences at just over a year old.

She spent most of her time alone or, once she learned how, reading. In fact, Elizabeth remained such a quiet child, Marie could easily forget about her. It made her nervous. Elizabeth was too quiet.

Even her scent was all wrong. Babies smelled warm and sweet, of milk and talcum powder. Elizabeth’s scent reminded her of meat just beginning to
spoil: thick and rotten.

But there was something else wrong with Elizabeth, something more serious than her near silence, her behavior, her scent. Even more serious than that alien feeling, which Marie had tried to dismiss as simple post-partum depression, although it never did go away entirely.

When Marie was really being honest with herself, which didn’t happen often, she could admit what really disturbed her most about her daughter.

Her eyes. Elizabeth had silver eyes.

Not always. Most of the time they looked gray. But sometimes, they changed to silver. Occasionally, Marie even thought she could see them glowing, like a cat’s. Especially at night. There Elizabeth would be, lying on her back, perfectly quiet in her crib, her eyes strangely open, shining faintly in the darkness. Marie would tell herself that Elizabeth’s eyes merely reflected the nightlight in a bizarre fashion. After all, none of her other children’s eyes ever glowed. But it still didn’t make her any easier to face, late at night, as silver eyes stared at her from the darkness. They seemed so old, so ancient. Eyes that had seen thousands of years and hundreds of lifetimes. Those eyes peered out from her newborn’s face, watching her every move, strangely calculating, full of adult understanding and knowledge. She felt afraid, if she were being honest … all alone in the room with those peculiar silver eyes watching, watching, always watching.

Nonsense, she reassured herself. Surely, she could not be afraid of her own infant daughter! What would her husband say? Plenty probably, and most of it with his fists.

Still, she found herself checking on Elizabeth less and less. She argued with herself: Elizabeth didn’t fuss much anyway. Marie didn’t need to check on her so often — not like she did with her other, noisy, “normal” babies.

Her other children. Such a joy they were, her four boys and other girl — Peter, Mark, Mike, Chad and Linda. All healthy, regular children, with coarse dark hair, brown eyes and a little bit of baby fat on their bones. They looked the way children should look, the way her children should look, like their parents. But more importantly, they acted the way children should act — loud, boisterous, rough, needy. Marie loved them for it, loved how she couldn’t get a moment’s peace when they played together. Even when their play turned to fighting, she still preferred it to Elizabeth’s silent, eerie presence.

But Marie loved Elizabeth, too. Loved her fiercely, with the same passion she felt for her other children. Marie knew she did. She told herself she did, time and time again. The fact that she felt relief when Elizabeth wasn’t around meant nothing. She just needed time away from her children, after all. Almost all mothers welcomed the time they had away from their constant, children-related responsibilities. It didn’t mean she loved them any less. It didn’t mean anything at all.

Author Bio:

When Michele was 3 years old, she taught herself to read because she wanted to write stories so badly.

As you can imagine, writing has been a driving passion throughout her life. She became a professional copywriter (which is writing promotional materials for businesses), which led to her founding a copywriting and marketing company that serves clients all over the world.

Along with being a copywriter, she also writes novels (in fact, she just published her first novel, a psychological thriller/suspense/mystery called "The Stolen Twin" and her second novel "Mirror Image'" is set to be published in May 2016) plus, she is also the author of the "Love-Based Copy" books, which are a part of the "Love-Based Business" series and cover both business and personal development.

She holds a double major in English and Communications from the University of Wisconsin-Madison. Currently she lives in the mountains of Prescott, Arizona with her husband Paul and her border collie Nick and southern squirrel hunter Cassie.

We lost childhoods. We lost opportunities. We lost love. Fate is giving us another chance. But a chance at what? Because even though we’ve been brought back to each other under the worst of circumstances… We are still. So. Damn. Lost.

Author of romance novels such as Red Card and the Captive Heart Duet, Carrie Aarons writes sexy, swoony and sarcastic characters who won't get out of her head until she puts them down on a page.

Carrie has wanted to be an author since the first time she opened a book. She loves spinning tales that include dapper men, women with attitude, and the occasional hunky athlete.When she isn't in what her husband calls a "writing coma", Carrie is freeing up her jam-packed DVR, starting her latest DIY project, or planning her next travel adventure. She lives in New Jersey with her husband, who is more than happy to watch sports while his wife plots love stories.

The Midnight Society (The Midnight Chronicles #1)by Rhonda SermonGenre: YA Urban FantasyRelease Date: May 31st 2016Summary from Goodreads:Witness protection has a protocol for dealing with every situationâexcept magic. Fifteen-year-old Cate's life has been monitored since her new identity was created five years ago. She's spent countless hours learning how to deal with potential threats and dangerous situations. None of which is any use when everyone around her is suddenly frozen like statues at the bus stop. As Cate attempts to make sense of the frightening scene, a mysterious group of teenagers appear out of thin air. They are intrigued sheâs not affected, but focus on completing their deadly mission, using baffling powers before they vanish again. When the group seeks her out the next day, Cate is drawn into a world filled with sorcery and time travel. After she accidentally brings a cheerleader back from the dead, her incredible powers are revealed. Cate is shocked to discover she has a pivotal role to play in a centuries-old battle between two mortal enemies which threatens to destroy her entire world.With the distinction between good and evil blurred, sheâs faced with the excruciating choice of which side to join. Cate can save her family or protect thousands of people from death. She can't do both. Will she risk destroying innocent lives to save the ones she loves?The Midnight Society is the first book in The Midnight Chronicles series of young adult urban fantasy novels. If you like original butt-kicking heroines, fast-paced urban fantasy action, and unpredictable time travel twists, then youâll love Rhonda Sermonâs refreshing, entertaining series starter. The Midnight Society was originally released as Timesurfers. This book has a new name, new cover and additional content.

"Sermon has done a brilliant job. All her characters are realistic and breathe a certain kind of wisdom - Marne Smith.

"WOW! This novel took me on an amazing ride... I recommend it to anyone looking for a new fun read" - SandraTheBookWorm.

"A unique, fast paced and compelling read with a very quirky and cool main character that has kick ass rainbow coloured hair" â MollieTheReader

"One of my favourite fantasy novels" - RachelReads

"Hands down the best Indie Book I've read" - Meleika - EndlessPagesinc

About the Author

Rhonda Sermon lives in the mostly sunny Perth, Western Australia with her husband and two children. Her debut young adult urban fantasy novel Timesurfers was a finalist in the Young Adult category and overall runner up in the The Strongest Start 2012 Contest hosted by TheNextBigWriter.com. On the good days, she adores writing, on the challenging days, it's still awesome.Her two ragdoll cats can often be found helpfully walking over her keyboard, chasing her mouse or generally complaining loudly about the lack of priority their needs are being given.She's a big Harry Potter fan, loves everything the talented Cassie Clare writes and her fav Aussie author is Jessica Shirvington. Her 11 and 13 year old children read ALL the time so she is always on the lookout for new and exciting books.

Adam, Hunter, and Free have a lot in common, like geeky passions and not exactly great track records when it comes to dating. But a New Year’s Eve bash will bring everything they’ve ever wanted–and so much more . . .

His Work Of Art

Adam Hayes has never met a girl like Reese. She’s sassy, smart, and loves talking comics, although he can’t see why she’d choose DC over Marvel. He’s thrilled to finally put his artistic chops to use in their upcoming comic project. But when the two combine forces, they churn out magic in more ways than they had planned . . .

His New Jam

There’s something unusual about the sarcastic percussionist Hunter Reed hired for his band. For one thing, she’s impervious to his advances. But when Hunter sees how passionate Sydney is behind the drums, he orchestrates a plan to find out if she kisses like she plays. What he doesn’t anticipate is falling so hard . . .

His Dream Role

Free Mitchell loves the theater. When he’s masquerading as Dr. Who or Sherlock Holmes, he feels he can escape his shy, dorky persona. But nothing’s prepared him to play boyfriend to a gorgeous girl like Samantha Wolf. The more time they spend together, the more they seem to be going off the script, and the hotter everything gets . . .

Sydney came around the corner a minute later, wearing shorts and a T-shirt. “What the hell?” She waved her pointer finger at them. “I am not dressing like that.”

Hunter shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

He drove to the convention center since his minivan was more comfortable for them all to fit. This weekend was a nice break and end to summer. School was starting for teachers in a week and he couldn’t wait. Free had started working for his dad as expected right after graduation. Adam was the only one still in the same place.

Hunter really hoped the convention would give Adam the kick start he needed for his career. One of Adam’s biggest problems was that he was too cautious. He overthought everything. Hunter had really thought that adding Reese to his life would make Adam a little more easygoing.

Once they got into the convention center, Free said, “Adam and Reese are in Artist Alley. I’ll come by in a while. We have a couple of panels we want to get in on.”

With a nod to Hunter and Sydney, he grabbed Samantha’s hand and pulled her through the crowd. When he was gone, Sydney said, “He really gets into this, doesn’t he?”

Hunter nodded. “It’s easy for him to pretend to be someone else.”

“I haven’t seen him in costumes much lately.”

Hunter pointed them in the direction of Adam and Reese. “That’s because Cary doesn’t need the distraction at the health club anymore. And Free has Samantha, so he doesn’t need to impress anyone else.”

When they walked down an aisle of Artist Alley, Hunter saw Adam and Reese sitting behind a table. He sighed. Holding Sydney’s hand, he said, “They really need our help.”

“What?”

“Nobody’s paying attention to them.”

Syd smiled. “Maybe they should’ve worn a costume.”

Hunter stopped in front of the table. “How do you expect to sell anything sitting there like that? Where are your book things?”

“Dude, we tried talking to people. You have any idea how exhausting it is to try to grab someone’s attention?”

“Yeah, yeah. Gimme some books.”

Adam came around the table with an armful of the sample booklets they’d printed and stapled. “I’ll come with you. Sydney will stay with Reese, right?”

Syd rolled her eyes but nodded. She and Reese weren’t exactly friends, but they got along. As he and Adam stepped away from the table, Hunter heard Syd telling Reese about Free and Sam and the costumes. The girls’ laughter followed them down the aisle.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

“I told you I would be.”

“I know you’re busy getting ready for the school year. It’s cool that you made time for this. And convinced Sydney to come.” Adam blew out a breath.

Hunter took a moment to smile at a couple of women dressed as aliens and offer them a booklet. They each took one.

“It’s been a crazy couple of days,” Adam continued. “Reese and I split up yesterday to sit in on some workshops and I did pitch sessions.”

“Any luck?”

“Yeah, but that’s part of the problem. I think Reese and I went into this with different expectations. Or at least we have different ones now.”

“How do you mean?” Hunter paused again beside a group of women. “Excuse me. My artist friend here and his girlfriend wrote a really kick-ass comic. Here’s a sample.”

At first they looked startled that Hunter had interrupted them, but then they relaxed and each took a book. When he resumed walking beside Adam, he said, “And that, son, is how it’s done.”

Author Bio:

Shannyn Schroeder is the author of the O’Leary series, contemporary romances centered around a large Irish-American family in Chicago and the Hot & Nerdy series about 3 nerdy friends finding love. Her new series (For Your Love) will release this summer with the first title Under Your Skin. When she’s not wrangling her three kids or writing, she watches a ton of TV and loves to bake cookies.

I've always been lost . . .Abandoned by a father who didn't want me. Cherished by a stepfather, though I wasn’t his. Shattered by a boy who swore he loved me.But I belonged nowhere, to no one.Then I met Owen, the sweet-talking hockey player who made me love him. He gave me the courage to trust in someone besides myself. He showed me a love I longed for.When an unwanted ghost comes knocking on my door, my heartbreaking history threatens to repeat itself. But where do I turn if I lose everyone? And how do I find where I belong, when I’m still Finding Me? Finding Me is a spinoff from the Second Chances series and can be read as a standalone.

I couldn’t quite make eye contact with Ethan since the last time I came back to the apartment with Owen before Thanksgiving break. We caught Ethan naked in the hallway—on a date and thinking they had the place to themselves for a night. I was no prude, but seeing junk not belonging to my boyfriend turned me three shades of red. I hadn't even seen Owen's, but I . . . felt it . . . a lot. On my leg, against my stomach, sometimes rubbing my back if he was holding me from behind. Why I was so bashful I couldn't say, especially since I didn’t have a cherry to pop. But it was only one guy and only one time, shortly before he shredded my heart and then stomped all over it. Even though I couldn't make my virginity grow back, I wasn’t quite ready to go there again. However, not being ready for sex had absolutely nothing to do with wanting it. Our time together always ended with a scorching kiss and groping against the nearest wall. Owen’s Southern gentility was probably wearing thin these past few weeks.“Owen? The movie starts in a half hour!” I called as I strolled down the hallway.“Hey, City. Give me a minute, practice ran late.” Owen had just stepped out of the shower and was dripping freaking wet. The V on his hips disappeared into a towel cinched around his tapered waist. Water traveled from the stray tangled locks at his neck and trickled down over his ripped chest and his abs before disappearing into the bunched up material at his waist. I licked my parched lips and tried to remember how to speak. How many damn abs did he have? Six? Eight? I was gaping at a wet, half naked Owen while the corner of the bastard's mouth turned up in a smirk. I didn't have the faculties to scowl back. My tongue didn't want to work unless it was tracing the water trails across Owen's body.“Keep looking at me like that, baby. We won't be going anywhere tonight.”

About The Author

Stephanie Rose was born and raised in the Bronx, New York and still lives there with her superhero-obsessed husband and son.She has a Bachelor’s degree in Business and a day job in marketing, but she always has a story in her head. Her books are full of swoon-worthy men and feisty heroines.This lifelong New Yorker lives for Starbucks, book boyfriends, and 80s rock. Her voice is often mistaken for a Mob Wives trailer.Goodreads |Facebook | Twitter

From the USA Today bestselling author of the Bliss series comes a new spin off series featuring your favorite Bliss series characters who are yet to meet their match. This time it is Zach and Danika's turn. I’m a gamer by nature and by profession. I’m all about strategy, performance, and coming out on top. Five months ago I threw caution to the wind, and in the first miscalculated step of my twenty-one-year life, I made a move on my brother’s best friend. The first mistake we made was keeping our relationship secret. The next was going off half-cocked when a train wreck of epic proportions hit us. Now our secret is secret no more. As I struggle to deal with all of the swirling emotions, conflicted feelings, and the multitude of burned bridges that I need to mend, the one person who can help me through it all is the same man I need space from. To fix it I’ll have to pull on my big-girl panties, focus on what I truly want in life, and put everything I have into winning the most important game I’ll ever play. Life is a game, and it is what you make it. Coming out unscathed is a whole other matter.

Prologue

Danika

“Yes,” I moan, grinding down against him.

“Fucking beautiful,” he says gruffly against my skin, his lips brushing my neck. His breath comes hard and fast in time with the upward thrusts of his cock, and I feel my orgasm barreling toward me.

“Feels so good,” I pant. His hand tightens around my back and his fingers zero in on my wonder button, stroking with expert precision and making my pussy clench around him. My body contorting as if it’s possessed.

“Jesus. Fuck,” Zach growls, planting his feet on the bed and thrusting up one last time before following me over the edge as he pours himself inside of me.

We collapse backwards, my legs falling limp on the way down, and together we lie there, chests heaving, bodies stuck together, struggling to catch our breaths.

“Every time is better than the last,” he murmurs in my ear, sucking my earlobe into his mouth afterwards. I whimper and my muscles spasm as aftershocks course through me. Shifting sideways, I stay draped over him, my fingers drawing mindless circles in the smattering of hair on his damp chest.

“What’s on the agenda today?” he asks, his hand running through my hair, roots to ends.

“Team meeting at eleven, lunchtime conference call with the west coast programmers at one, then I get to go play.”

“Such a geek.” He chuckles. I jerk my head up and I narrow my eyes at him. He just smirks, and my twitching lips give away how uncommitted I am to the death stare aimed his way.

I push up with one hand on the bed so that my head hovers over his, our lips just an inch apart. “Never,” I whisper. “But that’s okay. I still love you.”

His entire body goes still and my eyes go wide as realization hits me. Way to go, Dani. Freak him out why don’t you.

My brain catches up with my body and flight mode kicks in. I move quickly, rolling backwards and scrambling off the bed. Making a smash-and-grab attempt, I scoop up my clothes scattered over his bedroom floor, but the first step toward escape is hampered by an arm wrapping around my waist.

I fall back and slam into his naked chest, my entire body going still at the contact.

“Wait a minute, Dani. You can’t say something like that then fly out of here like a bat out of hell.”

“Bats like hell. They live there.”

“They live in caves. Stop trying to change the subject.”

Deciding that redirecting this inevitable conversation is the best plan of attack, I continue. “I really have to go, Zach. I’ve still gotta go home, shower, get dressed, and then get to work.”

“It’s only six, and you just told me your first meeting isn’t till eleven.”

“I’ve got a lot of stuff to do before then.”

“I’ll drive you home and to the office if it means you’ll turn around. I wanna look in your eyes when I tell you I love you back.”

For the second time in as many minutes, my heart stutters to a halt. There’s no way in hell I’m in flight mode now.

Seven years ago, I fell in teenage girl love with Zach Cooper, my older brother’s roommate and best friend.

Five months ago, I fell into adult insta-lust with him the night I told him what I wanted. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t imagined what it would be like to hear him say those three little words.

What I didn’t know was that just a few days after one of the best moments in my life—one of those ones you know you’ll remember forever—everything would be turned upside down.

And there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.

BJ Harvey is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the Bliss Series. She also regards herself as a smut peddler, suspense conjurer and a funny romance thinker upper.

An avid music fan, you will always find her singing some hit song badly but loving every minute of it.

She’s a wife, a mom to two beautiful girls, and hails from what she considers as the best country in the world—New Zealand.

About Me

I'm a Texas gal with a wonderful husband, an amazing six year old son, and an adorable newborn baby boy!​My blog is about the best things in life - cooking, books, giveaways and reviews of everyday products! ​This is a PR-friendly blog!!